6:30am - Big Al has just left for work, and BB has already been up for an hour or so. He's such an early riser. BB comes in to ask me when I'll be getting up, and in the process wakes up his brother. This is usually how our day starts, and it's maybe my favorite 10-15 minutes of the day. LB almost always wakes up happy, wrapping his little arms around my neck, kissing my cheek, and smiling with his eyes still closed. BB gets in with us and we have a "sandwich" hug which gets us all giggling. It's all fun and games until they start hiding under the covers and thrashing my bed. I get irritated and afraid that they're going to hurt their baby brother before he has a chance to leave my uterus, and head downstairs to make coffee.
6:45am - Empty the dishwasher while I'm waiting for my coffee. Yes, it's regular 'ol french roast. Not decaf. Both of my boys did just fine with my having two caffeinated beverages per day after the first trimester, and this one will too.
7am - Pour my coffee, turn on Caillou (thank you PBS, for saving my ass - daily) and check my email, read a couple of blogs, etc. For the record, if there was a ever a cartoon-kid that deserved to be kicked repeatedly in the shins - it's Caillou. But the boys sit there happily and watch this insipid little nightmare, so whatever.
7:30am - Make the boys breakfast. Frozen waffles, yogurt, berries. Take clothes out of the dryer and put another load of laundry in to wash. Praise myself for taking a shower last night, note that hair is acceptable, put a little make-up on and get dressed. Make grocery list and figure out what we're having for dinner this week. Decide that Mexican food is in order for tonight. Jack and I want Mexican food. Get boys dressed and break up one or ten fights.
9am - Eat a bowl of cereal and feel like a jerk when I tell LB to back off. NO, you can't have my cereal. I've given you my blood, my soul, and my entire life. I'm happy to have done so, but this cereal is MINE.
9:15am - Realize that there are still yogurt splatters on the table and a half eaten waffle under the table. Make boys clean up this mess because that's the right thing to do. Once they scurry off to play - clean the mess again because they are really bad at cleaning. Boil 4 chicken breasts for the enchiladas that we will have for dinner. Note that I hate the smell of boiling chicken breasts, but again - praise self for going this route rather than buying the rotisserie chicken at the store. This is a healthier and cheaper option. Yay, me. While it's cooking, clean the bathroom. Because the only smell that trumps boiling chicken, is that of Scrubbing Bubbles. "You are the lowest form of life" I say to myself as I wipe pee-splatters off the toilet. How hard is it to aim you guys?? I mean, really. Freakin' neanderthals.
10am - Remind the boys that they may not throw trains at each other or the trains will go away for a really long time. Dammit, they have called my bluff. Take this particular set of trains away and redirect. Break out a couple of new sticker books, pads of paper, pens, etc. "La, la, la,la, la." "La, la, la, la, la, la" says my cell phone. OOh! A text message! Who could it be? I never get text messages! How exciting! Or....maybe not. It's Verizon. Cell phone bill is very late. Oops. Get online, pay cell phone bill.
10:15 - Make snack for boys - bugs on a log. BB tells LB that his bugs aren't actually bugs - they're turds. LB feigns crying and tells me that his brother has put turds on his snack. I remind LB that this is exactly the kind of tattling that I won't deal with, and NO. Those are not turds. Throw BB a look that says both: "Please don't torture your brother, it only makes my life harder" and "Good one son! Glad my sarcasm and eye-rolling attitude toward life is rubbing off on you. You'll be a certified smart-ass by the time you reach adulthood, and you'll have me to thank."
11am - The clouds open up and millions of bluebirds carry ribbons across the sky. Okay, not really - but close. Grandma calls. She is off today and will pick up the boys at noon, take them to lunch, and then to the park so that they can ride their bikes. I think about how much I adore this woman while I'm shredding chicken and washing the pot that I cooked it in.
11:15am - Fold 4 loads of laundry and put them all away. Wander into what will be Jack's room and decide, once and for all - that we should just paint the room white. Not aqua, not light green (always looks so institutional to me), just white. His decor is adorable on it's own and loud walls will take away from it, the lighting is iffy...we'll go white. Look in his dresser drawers at all of his darling new clothes (because I saved NOTHING from the boys. That's what happens when you don't have a garage, and only two closets in the whole house. You can't really save anything) and feel so excited that he's almost here! Reverie of baby love is broken when I hear a thunk, and then crying. ARGH!
11:45am - Apply sunscreen and help with shoes. Grandma comes and takes the boys. Pick up some toys that they should have picked up before leaving, wipe down the counter tops, sweep kitchen floor, and make a sandwich. Throw sandwich along with a bottle of water into my purse.
12:15pm - Eat sandwich in the car, and go to the drug store to pick up a couple of prescriptions, some toiletries, and Father's Day cards. Grudgingly pick out a Father's Day card for my Father-in-law (so that Big Al can sign his name to it and put it in the mail) in the ultimate show of marital co-dependence and/or enabling behavior. It's all about keeping the peace - I remind myself. Go to gas station because I LOVE spending $60 on gas, and note that my left thigh is going numb. Excellent. As I lower myself back-end-first into my car (okay - MINIVAN), I hear "beep......beep.....beep" sounds in my mind, because I do indeed feel like a delivery truck who has yet to make it's delivery.
1:15pm - Go to post office. Stand in long line. Thigh still numb. Go to mail package and realize I have left my wallet in the car. Catch irritated looks from other post office customers. "Oh, you can all just kiss it" I think to myself as I go to fetch my wallet.
1:45pm - Go to grocery store. "Do you want help out with that?" asks the nice 17 year old boy . "No thanks, I'm okay." My standard answer. What I should say is: "Help?? With this $200 load of groceries which for some reason consists largely of heavy items?? Noooo.....I'm SUPER WOMAN! Seven months pregnant and functioning on one feeling leg?? Nonsense. Tell you what, why don't you balance that gallon of milk on my head and gather your friends around to watch my latest trick.........."
3pm - Get home and put all the groceries away. Rinse the grapes and put them in a colander. Cut up two small watermelons and put them into a container. Wash enough romaine lettuce for 4 sandwiches, dry it, and put it into yet another container. One less step at 11pm at night, when I'm making Big Al's sandwich for his lunch the next day. Mix the shredded chicken with some other ingredients for the enchilada filling and put in the fridge so that I'm one step closer to having dinner ready. Eat a peach. And a few wheat thins. Drink a Diet Pepsi because I will need it if I am to stand a chance in hell of finishing this day. Remember that the boys sandals from the beach are rotting in the back of the van. Go back out to the van, hose off sandals, and leave them in the sun to dry.
4pm - I am SO TIRED. Lay down on the couch.....
4:03pm - Phone rings, it's my Mom. "Hi Honey, can you come and get these guys?" put flip flops on......go get boys.
4:30pm - All the boys are home. Assemble enchiladas - one pan for tonight, one for the freezer. Make a salad. Cut up a separate bowl of carrots, celery and cucumbers for BB who won't touch lettuce with a ten foot pole. Figure that while I'm at it, and am clearly running on domestic adrenaline at this point - I'll make Big Al's sandwich for tomorrow now. Fight with LB about snacks because we're going to have dinner soon. Give him some grapes and send him on his way.
5pm - Put enchiladas in the oven, and am informed by BB that he will not be trying this dinner because it's red. I tell him that in accordance with the "two bite rule", he will have two bites. Knowing that he will not eat more than the two bites - I make him a quesadilla.....totally cutting off my nose to spite my face with regard to the "two bite rule."
5:20pm - Sit down for a few, to work on this post.
6pm - We eat dinner, and everyone enjoys it. Victory. Big Al clears the table, wipes hands and faces, and does the dishes. I love him.
7:20pm - Here I am, finishing this post. I should be pretty much off the hook for the remainder of the evening as my other half will get the kids bathed, put to bed, etc. Oddly, I feel a second wind coming on! I wonder what else I can do before it's time to go to bed......